It is strange how grief will sneak in and get you.  Someone sent me a picture of the four  us when we little, little kids. Playing and jovial. Big smiles and happy faces. And there she was, and I just was stunned by her memory.  Memories burbled quickly to the surface. She has been gone for four years now, and there are actually days when I do not even think about her, like trees, deciduous trees whose leaves change, wither and fall to the ground.  Then this picture comes and with it a flood of emotions – happy – because we were a tight, happy little family.  Happy memories.  Happy paired with grief and sadness – an illusion?

For Bonnie

We laughed and she followed
Running on light legs,
Legs as thin as sticks,
Knobby kneed and frail.
She ran with
Red hair shining,
With Bright eyes,
And Bright smiles.

She was a summer child,
Midnight sun and
Dandelions.
Like Thistles,
Light as feathers
She floated.
Bare footed
Dancing on silky lawns
On sandy shores 
And Silver waters.

She was a winter child,
Snowflakes on eyelashes
Rosy cheeks.
Like Soft and downy flakes
Under the glow 
Of streetlight 
She floated
And twirled
Arms wide,
Eyes closed
A joyful dance
On a frosty night.

We ran and she followed
On dreams
And hopes 
As fragile
And light
As downy thistle
As temporary 
As a flake of snow.
Beautiful
But soon gone.